


Himalayan Sunrise

by WinterSorceress



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Genji Shimada Problems, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-30 10:22:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,656
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15749757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WinterSorceress/pseuds/WinterSorceress
Summary: A series of short scenes following Genji's path under Zenyatta's guidance.





	1. Chapter 1

The glare of the rising sun was his alarm clock, as was the growing chatter outside, the bustling sounds of life from the waking village. He awoke with a dejected groan. It seemed every day was a burden, another span of borrowed hours.

It was only recently that he escaped death's jaws once again, only this time, he put himself there. It didn't feel like he had much to live for anymore. Isolation up here in the mountains was a fitting place, where hardly anyone had to endure his pitiful existence.

Though, there was already one who actively sought his company, the one who saved him from his own attempt. He could faintly remember the shock the monk expressed finding him in a pool of his own blood.

He had had a point in that hospital room. For a trained assassin, he sure did a halfass job on himself. Maybe he wasn't truly ready to give it all up, but he lacked the will to continue. It was an empty sort of limbo.

A knock at the doorway gained his attention, startling him into at last sitting up. “Good morning, Genji,” a familiar synthetic voice greeted. “Still in bed, I see.”

“Master Zenyatta,” Genji murmured with a touch of disbelief. “What are you doing down here in the village? Shouldn't you be at the shrine?”

The omnic chuckled lightly, his pale pink robes almost glowing in the morning rays. “You have a lot of questions for someone who hasn't even had breakfast,” he teased warmly.

Waking himself up fully, it was only then the cyborg noticed the monk carried with him a basket, “I'm...I apologize, master. I don't mean to be so--Wait, is that..you brought me breakfast?”

Zenyatta made a sound of affirmation. “I have come to ensure you are recovering, and obviously that includes eating; it's no trouble,” he explained, gentle as always in words and manners. “May I come and sit with you?”

At the request, Genji's cheeks immediately flared with a self-consciousness, though he was relieved he had slept with his visor on, a discomfort he had decided to live with. “O-of course! This is not my place, after all; I'm just staying here,” he replied, scrambling to give his guest room.

With a certain grace, Zenyatta settled, despite the touch of strain in his legs. “Oh, but it is. As long as you remain here, this is your personal space,” he disagreed with some mirth. “Never think you are imposing, my dear. If you want to be here, then here you belong. It is that simple.”

“I do not think the others share your sentiment, master,” the cyborg murmured, staring with sorrow at the wooden floor. It was clear the rest of the monastery feared him, especially now after that bloody episode. Yet, it was something he didn't need to focus on right now; he cleared his throat feebly. “So...um...what's...what's for breakfast?”

For a moment, the omnic didn't answer nor move. He just seemed to stare, making the ninja worry he had said something wrong. However, his head dipped before he could inquire, and he began fiddling with his cargo.

“I...wasn't sure how hungry you were, so I didn't grab anything too heavy. Just roti and fruit salad, really, and a canister of milk tea,” he explained, setting them out with care on the simple dishware he had taken along with them.

“Thank you. This will probably hold me over nicely.” His gratitude was a thinly kept veil that they both saw, even as began to eat gingerly.

Once again, his mentor was quiet, thoughtful, for a good handful of seconds, before he spoke again. “...They have much to be afraid of, my dear. Many came here to escape the violent humans of the past,” he offered, almost too low to hear at first, his array dimming tentatively. “But that does not mean they are right. They do not yet know you--”

“And you do?” Genji asked impulsively before taking a gulp of tea to drown out anymore unneeded venom. “...This milk tea is good.”

Zenyatta tilted his head amiabically. “Nepal is the home to some of the best recipes, I've heard. Though I've never had the honor.”

“Right…” He indulged in another, in the omnic's place. “I'm...I'm sorry. Please. As you were saying, master?”

To his dismay, the monk appeared to decline that request, for a long, tense moment, long enough for him to rediscover that there was a world outside, “...Would you care to take a walk with me after breakfast?”

The cyborg scarcely managed the first bite of his fried bread before his jaw slackened with surprise. “Huh?”

Zenyatta rested his hands in his lap, and gazed down at them momentarily. “You are right, Genji. I _don't_ know you, but I would very much like to.”

His confession left him in disbelief, squeezing a breathless chuckle from his chest. “Wow, I don't think there was a time where I've had a doctor admit that I was right,” he remarked dryly, thinking back to Doctor Ziegler for a moment more than he'd care to.

“Well, I'm a monk, Genji, not a doctor,” Zenyatta mused. “We are taught from the beginning lessons of humility, to listen and learn, to see the world through different eyes, instead of focusing on nursing our own selfish pride.”

“Huh.” That explained a lot; he liked that concept, a lot.

Riding the waves of Genji's interest, his guest then leaned forward. “Monks are also infamous rebels, as they have been throughout history.”

“Oh?” That added statement surprised him, for he wasn't sure what he was getting at. “Why...why do you say--?”

“Oh, you just looked like a fellow rebel; I can just feel it.

He had him there. “Well, you're not wrong,” Genji admitted. “I was a little rascal when I was younger, and I guess still am.”

“As I am. Unfortunately, my brothers and sisters don't care for me decking any unreasonable ruffian we come across, so I'm not allowed on many trips anymore.”

“...You're serious? _You_ deck people?”

Unfazed, Zenyatta straightened. “Well, if you're going to act like a bitch, you might as well go down like one,” he declared as if it was the simplest thing in the world, and it was the simplest way to tickle Genji's funny bone. “But in all seriousness, my dear, there is just too much wrong in this world, too much suffering, for passiveness, for people to turn a blind eye. And sometimes words are not nearly enough.”

“Truer words have never been spoken,” was his murmured response, thinking back to his Overwatch days. He knew that sentiment far too well; Zenyatta might have made a fitting agent if things had been different. “Though I doubt your brother feels the same.”

With a clink, Genji at last set his plate aside, having finished what he could stomach. Within the moment, Zenyatta was already putting them away, perhaps eager to set out. With a noise of effort, he then rose to his feet, with the cyborg following suit with little trouble.

“He doesn't. It is one of the rare matters we disagree on. He believes the Shambali should be a symbol of peace and tolerance alone,” the monk explained, watching as his host worked on putting away his futon. “I, however, find it difficult not to desire...more effective intervention. I am no fan of violence, but I despise passiveness even more. I've seen too many suffer and perish while those who had the power to protect them did nothing.”

“I feel you, Master Zenyatta. The world bites, doesn't it?”

“Sometimes. But that's why you're here. To see a different side of the world we both know. I hope you'll come to see this place as one of sanctuary, like I have.”

Genji was already certain he liked this monk.


	2. Chapter 2

 It was three in the goddamn morning when his phone went off. Half drunk with drowsiness, he almost threw it across the room in fright. Instead, he took an aggravated deep breath and regained his bearings. Then, after a choice string of curses, he grabbed the offending device and flinched at the influx of bright light as he checked what the fuck the commotion was about.

“Who in their right mind--” He interrupted himself as he bolted upright. “No way. Holy shit…”

It was Genji, Genji Fucking Shimada. He hadn't used this account since their Blackwatch days, used commonly to plot gags on old commander Reyes, as well as to chat past curfew when the cyborg’s demons kept him awake. It had since been gathering dust, as everyone assumed the worst when he all but vanished from their collective radar.

Yet, he was alive, calling as though from beyond the grave at the infamous twilight hour.

Bewildered, he took another, more rattling breath, and answered the video call.

After a moment, it opened and calibrated itself. The quality was a tad grainy, as though from a bad or distant signal. Despite this, Genji's visage was unmistakable.

“Ah, McCree. There you are,” the cyborg greeted, self-conscious with his initiation, intruding so abruptly back into his life; his silver and green cybernetics were stark even in his decently lit room, familiar as his old friend.“...I..hope this isn't a bad time…”

The cowboy gawked, even with his eyes burning from their lack of beauty rest. “...Good God Almighty, it really is you,” he marveled. “There ain't a bad second to discover you're alive, darling. Though...it...it _is_ three in the morning, Gen.”

The other man stiffened with disbelief. “Oh…? It is? I apologize. It's three in the afternoon here,” he muttered with some sheepishness. “I forgot about the time difference between us. Are you back home in New Mexico?”

Taking a moment to turn on the lamp at his side table, Jesse collected his precious thoughts before he returned. “Well, yeah. But...three in the afternoon? That's twelve hours. Where the heck _are_ you, Shimada?”

“A-ah...About that…” To the cowboy’s surprise, his old friend took the time to remove his visor. His face was once a closely guarded shame, scarred from the same attack that took half his body along with it. Yet, a few life or death missions tended to break the ice quite nicely between folks. “I'm in Nepal. I came to investigate the Shambali Temple.”

Unable to help it, the American let out a short whistle, half from awe in his location and half in seeing his face for the first time in two years, eyes unusually bright and hair charmingly ruffled from his helmet. “Whew. That's quite a hike. Is it nice there?”

“Quite peaceful really. Though I'm not exactly an adorable kitten to them here either,” Genji explained with a touch of rueful humor. “I did scare the shit out of them after that attempt about a month ago, but they're--”

“Wait, wait... _Attempt_? Genji...you _didn't_ …”

“...I did,” the ninja admitted plainly. “I was whisked to the nearest hospital very well in time, though. I'm fine now. I've been getting better, I'd like to think, thanks to my mentor. Though, I do..still have a long while to go, as well as my reservations.”

"Shit, Genji..." McCree breathed, still in shock as he coaxed his heart to crawl back out of his throat.

There was a pause then, ripe with tension and wrought with worry.

Uneasy, Genji brushed his bangs from his eyes, unable to meet Jesse’s at the moment. “Uh...Master Zenyatta advised that I...reestablish contact with...positive characters in my life, as a support system,” he explained quietly, a hint of color collecting in his cheeks. “...You're the only one I could...I could think of. Either...they're...no longer around...or they're Angela.”

At that, McCree couldn't help but snort, tickled. “Ain't that the truth? If that's the case...I'm honored to be back in your life, sunshine.”

“...I'm sorry I disappeared the way I did,” Genji apologized almost meekly. “Cutting everyone off too. I...was in a very bad place; I kind of still am, but Zenyatta is watching over my troubled behind. So there's that.”

Thoughtful, the cowboy rested his chin in his hand, dwelling briefly on what a mess his hair and beard were in through his side of the camera. “Now don't you go fretting about that, Shimada. The important thing is that you're still around, and hopefully will be for a long time to come,” he assured warmly. “Though...I am curious about this Zenyatta fella you keep mentioning. Is he a monk?”

He swore, for a split second, he detected a shimmer of wetness in his old friend's eyes, but then it was gone. It seemed this bit of closure could get to a guy. He already knew it was making his own eyes sting with surges of emotions.

Genji rubbed at the offending liquid. “He is. He's an...omnic monk, actually, if we're being specific.”

“An omnic? That...must be rather unusual to deal with,” McCree mused, finding it odd. “How does one get their emotional support from an--”

“Quite well,” the cyborg insisted, cutting Jesse off urgently. “He's...pretty great, really. I feel like...I relate to him a bit. He has an older brother, like I once did--McCree, don't you raise your eyebrow at me like that, it's true.”

“How the hell do omnics have siblings?”

“Because they say so, Jesse. I don't question their relationship. Though, I could always question why you still choose to play cowboy.”

Now that sure sounded like the good ole Genji he remembered, pulling a hearty bought of laughter from deep in his chest. “Touche, Gen, touche. I gotcha,” he conceded. “Anything else?”

“Oh…!” The color in his face deepened for a split second. “Well, he claims he's a rebel, much like I was...you know…before my...incident. And I can see it, if I'm to be honest. All the others were too frightened to even talk to me, but...he...just offered me his hand, his support, right away. He's not scared of me, at all. And...it makes me wonder…”

Intrigued, McCree fiddled with his whiskers. “About what? He sounds like an upright fella to me. Some major respect from me already, to tell ya the truth…”

“I'm not saying he's not, Jesse. I just...can't help but wonder...about _his_ story. He strikes me almost...as someone whose been through...hell, and lived to learn from it,” the cyborg struggled to explain. “Maybe hell is too strong of a comparison, but…”

“A veteran, almost? I don't doubt some omnics see some shit, to be honest, especially those who lived right after the crisis,” he offered thoughtfully.

“...You might have a point there. I think he even has an injury of some kind.”

Jesse stared, bewildered. “Oh? That's odd for an omnic.”

Genji nodded, face stern. “It is. Yet, it's too obvious to ignore. He seems to have bad legs. The others check on him about them sometimes, and he struggles with getting up at times, among other things.” He then fell quiet for a beat, before shaking his head. “It's...probably nothing major, but I just...want to know more about the person in charge of my time here. Sorry again about calling so late, but I just wanted to let you know; you'll be hearing from me a bit now.”

Out of reflex, the cowboy went to tip his hat, only to remember with embarrassment that he left it on his nightstand; he cleared his throat. “A-ah, well...I wouldn't have it any other way. Try to work on your timing though, Gen,” he advised with a fair smile. “Good luck on getting the information on your mentor. Remember not to go too far with it though. Talk to you later, Shimada.”

“Good night, McCree. Thank you.”


End file.
